did I shave my pnoosey for this?! : Valentines Tales
I was excited to celebrate my first I ACTUALLY HAVE A BOYFRIEND NOW valentine’s day. I got myself a perfect Carrie-Bradshaw-attends-an-art-gallery-opening-on-the-lower-east-side cocktail dress. I was lookin fly. He did everything right: dinner, drinks all the while being chivalrous. Too good to be true. It was time to open my gift which was beautifully wrapped in what looked to be a huge basket filled with presents. Spa essentials?? Silk lingerie?? I couldn’t wait to find out!
Contents: purple velour handcuffs, a cat-o-nine tails, a full body fishnet stocking with easy-access-pussy-hole cut out at the crotch, and a pink gag.
My expression had said it all. Dumbfounded, I put the gag up to my mouth and imagined my tiny body on a pig roast. Is that what he wanted to do? Eat me like a pig? Please know I have nothing against humans exploring sexuality in this way; it’s just that my guy and I had never mentioned this before. And with what had been a perfect night, it just seemed like a weird time to bring that stuff up. Only got one use out of it…I slapped the shit out of his balls with that cat-o-nine tails.
I was attracted to a certain type of dude as a young woman. I liked them brooding, emotional and opinionated. I still like those traits but have added the necessary ones of funny, happy and chill. As a newly sexually active young woman (FINALLY!) I was ready to get freak-a-leaky on VDay. I went shop lifting at Victoria’s Secret where the only thing that fit and was without a security tags was some white silky bridal negligee. To me, PERFECT. I couldn’t wait to see the epic boner he was going to get from this sweet and sexy honeymoon maker. We’ll cut to the chase. At the time he was living in a studio that had a common kitchen with 3 other apartments. It was kind of scary TBH. But he had his own bathroom (covered in paints and cigarette butts!) where I changed into this hot little number. I poked myself coquettishly around the corner (at that age I thought being shy was being sexy - kill me), walked into the room, posed and waited to be taken. Just like a romance novel. But he didn’t. Instead he got depressed. He hated what I was wearing. He hated that I wasn’t confident (I was! It was a performance!) and he said something about how our sex in general was ‘base’ (hopefully home base, amirite?). He picked himself up from moping long enough to give me a gift! A big framed picture of John William Waterhouse’s “la belle dame sans merci” which I thought was very romantic but that’s because i didn’t know what that title meant and hadn’t read the poem! Man, at that age people are all mixed up and turned around. This is all sort of embarrassing to think about. We broke up.
Scent of a Woman
The first year I moved to Chicago was filled with a lot of self exploration. I was taking improv classes, meeting new people, new jobs, trying new styles and was on the hunt to find my signature scent. Anytime I went out shopping I would smell all the perfumes trying to find the one that really captured my essence. And then I found Victoria Secret Angels. It was sweet and innocent with a hint of sexy and daring, just like me! I bought a bottle of lotion and started to wear it just in time for Valentine’s Day! On V-Day I go to a show with a gal pal of mine and this dude I’ve been flirtin with for awhile asks me out, cause he knows I’m single since I’m with a gal pal on valentines day and he can smell the naughty Angel aroma wafting through the air.
I was finally a sophisticated woman, living in a city, a new signature scent and now a guy is asking me out on a proper date. Hello romance! Hello Life!
We go out soon after and all goes well, flash forward we’re making out without shirts at my place. He stays the night and when we wake up he is alarmed. His arms and chest are covered, COVERED in red hives. I gave him a rash. My glorious sexy sweet signature scent gave this poor boy an allergic reaction. I apologized profusely and he was like..’I gotta go..deal with this.” I was mortified. As soon as he walked out the door, I threw that bottle of Angles lotion away and vowed never to step foot into a Victoria Secret again.
Real Men Wrap it Up
I never had a Vday BF before. I once wrote Valentines to everyone I knew though, like improv, work, etc. so that I had an excuse to write one to the boy at my gym who I had a crush on. This was like 2 years ago - we fooled around and it ended cuz he wasn’t into condoms!
I had been hooking up with this guy for a while and was totally in love with him. He had told me a few times he didn’t want to date me and I was “so fine with that!!!!!!” aka I would have eloped if he’d asked me. I kept sleeping with him in that self-destructive way a lot of women do before they release the confident lioness inside and find a real man. On Valentine’s Day, I had a show and hung out with friends afterwards. I had been texting him, but he was studying for some dumb exam or something. I was getting drunk on candy heart sugar and pink champagne. I left the V-day post-show party and went back to my place, texting him the whole way, BEGGING him to come over. Not subtle. He reluctantly agreed. When I say reluctantly, I mean he came over in sweatpants, a dirty t-shirt, a hooded sweatshirt, UNTIED sneakers, and a scowl. I was so happy to see him - flittering about like a butterfly on crack trying to be cute and sultry and fun and convince him that having sex with me would be a totally great idea on Valentine’s day even though he did not want me to be his girlfriend. We got down to business and had an okay time. Afterwards we were laying in my bed silently for a while until he said, “Welp. That was a bad idea.” Then he got dressed. Then he left.
I don’t have a Valentine’s Day story, which seems extremely sad. Even sadder? Losing your virginity and getting blood everywhere….even on your face. What? Bloody nose (him), bloody puss (me)…bloody equals red which equals a Valentine’s Day-ish story.